


Lines

by devilbabycryman



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilbabycryman/pseuds/devilbabycryman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinji is used to being uncomfortable and disconnected, and Kaworu is hoping to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines

It's just another day, no better or worse than the ones that came before it.  
  
I’m in the last place I would rather be, gripping the triggers on either side of me out of habit. Like everything else, I’ve grown used to this feeling, this position, and I find myself unable to sit in the entry plug without being ready.  
  
The low hum of machinery around me, the little bubbles that escape my nose and drift up through the LCL, would be relaxing under different circumstances. If it weren’t for the smell of blood and the aimless sense of urgency that I felt every time I stepped into this entry plug because it usually meant I had to come face to face with some new monstrosity.  
  
Without those things then maybe...maybe this would be peaceful.  
  
Another familiar sound reaches my ears after a few moments of silence: muttered technobabble from Misato, Ritsuko and their team as they monitor my every move. They point out and record every twitch and breath I make, gathering all sorts of useless or confusing information from my sync test.  
  
I used to think that if I could shut out these sounds and just relax, it would help me sync better with the Eva. I thought I would produce better results that would put me in everyone’s favor and actually make me feel useful. After about the fifth or sixth test, I realized it was a waste of effort. With no comment from the others except whatever average or slightly favorable numeric figure represented my sync rate, I gave up on trying and learned to just sit and wait patiently until it was over.  
  
“Shinji, are you okay?”  
  
Misato's voice addressing me breaks through the listless haze. I look up to the glowing SOUND ONLY box that appears in the corner of my vision.  
  
"Yeah, fine,” I answer, not really caring whether or not she could see the weary, irritated look on my face. “Why? Is my sync rate low or something?”  
  
“...No, it’s just...,” she trailed off. I struggle not to sigh. I can tell she’s doing it again, trying to show me that she might actually be concerned with what I’m thinking and how I’m feeling. I can appreciate the effort she puts into trying to be a good guardian and all, and she's okay at it, all things considered. But her impatience and unwillingness to truly understand me are frustrating. Even though she’s not as bad as my father, she still gets mad if I don’t do what she wants, or if I don’t know how to explain myself (which I frequently don't), so I’ve given up on it altogether.  
  
“...Never mind,” she says, after a long silence. Apparently she gets the hint. “Anyway, we’re all done here, so you can get out whenever you’re ready. Good work, Shinji.”  
  
“Thanks.” I switch off the screen and immediately prepare myself to leave the entry plug, feeling like I couldn’t possibly get out of there fast enough.  
  
***  
  
Though I dislike everything about NERV, I find myself hanging around after every sync test. Misato takes extra time to finish up her meetings and stuff, and I am fully capable of taking the train home on my own. I hang around and wait for her, though, because I enjoy the extra half hour or so of peace I am afforded in this time. The hallway outside of the test chamber is always quiet and very empty. All I can hear is the perpetual buzzing of lights and machines that seem to crawl through the walls, and the occasional clap of footsteps on the linoleum floor. Though it's cold, and this place reminds me of the worst moments of my life, I enjoy the silence. I don't get it at home--or Misato’s apartment, whatever I should call it.  
  
For some reason on this particular day, when Misato had finished and came up to me for us to leave, I wasn't ready to. That little taste of peace wasn't enough right then, for some reason, and the thought of going back to the apartment and its chaos made me painfully tired. Of course, she expected me to ride home with her as usual, but I declined as politely as I could, assuring her that I would be just fine taking the train. I knew she wanted to argue, but she was intuitive enough to know when I wanted to be left alone. That was one thing I could always commend her on, and she left me with little more than a worried glance and a few gentle reminders on how to get back.  
  
Alone once more, and able to breathe, I fish out my dad's old cassette player and push the headphones in my ears, playing and rewinding the same tape over and over. I find a fairly cozy, isolated spot to sit and make myself as comfortable as possible. It’s kind of nice, sitting on the cool metal bench, eyes closed so I could be anywhere. Like this, my senses are blocked from everything except the music pouring into my ears, and what few things I can touch. What I choose to touch.  
  
For a minute, nothing is there. Almost everyone else has gone and many of the lights have been turned off. When I first sat down there were a few security guards and janitors walking around, but they didn’t bother me much. Most of them ignored me, or said a polite hello that I responded to with a nod. They'd say something about the weather, or kindly indicate how I could let myself out without setting off any alarms whenever I was ready, then go about their business. I like that, being addressed politely, and then left alone without prodding questions or awkward silences. Sometimes I forget that there are people around NERV that are normal. Nice, even. Just doing their job to pay their bills, no way involved with the horrible things I have to fight for and against. When I meet people like this, it almost makes everything worth it.  
  
Several minutes, maybe hours pass while I sit on the bench. Many of the lights inside have been turned off, and I am not interrupted within that time. At some point, I hunched over and fell into a semi-conscious trance, somewhere between daydreaming and sleep. The last song on the tape had ended, and I was listening to the light squeal of the cassette rewinding. With how often I listened to the tape, that sound had become as much a part of the soundtrack as the music itself, and it did not break my reverie. It was eventually broken, though, by a light breeze that shocks my ear. It feels like a breath, and before I can process the event, I’m overwhelmed with the vibration of someone’s voice saying, “Is it comfortable for you, sleeping like that?”  
  
I jolt back suddenly and hit my head against the wall. I had completely forgotten where I was, or even that other people existed. The voice was gentle, and very quiet, but in the scope of my mental state it seemed deafening. For a moment, I’m preoccupied with the pain, rubbing the back of my head indignantly. I have it in my head that it's Asuka, and my first instinct is to be mad, because she was the type to invade my space at every given moment. When I look up and see who it really is, my face is washed over with a quieter and more subdued heat, and my anger immediately vanishes into nothing.  
  
In hindsight, I recognize the voice was too gentle and calm to be Asuka's. I recognize that it belongs to Kaworu when I see him standing in front of me, smiling that smile, and holding my earbud in one hand. He's completely unapologetic in his stance, but far enough away that he is not jarring or really invading. The gesture I would have perceived as totally off-putting from anyone else, is only mildly uncomfortable to me now.  
  
“Don’t scare me like that...” I say quietly, pulling out my other earbud and wondering how he managed to take the first one without me noticing. “What are you still doing here?”  
  
“I could ask you the same thing.” he says warmly, sitting down next to me. “I’ve fallen asleep here before, too. It's a very peaceful spot, and I usually come here after I have finished my walk. I was under the impression that you didn't like this place enough to stay around, so I did not expect to see you here.”  
  
My heart’s still pounding even though I’ve calmed down, but that’s nothing new. That usually happened when I was anxious, or expecting something, and Kaworu had a way of making me feel like that all the time.  
  
“I really don’t like this place...,” I admit in a rare show of honesty, something I try to avoid when talking to other people. “But this is the only place I can be alone, and I'm more comfortable like that lately. Misato's always drunk and plays her music too loud, and Asuka terrorizes me when she gets bored. I don’t get a lot of peace there.”  
  
“I see, so you like to be alone. Should I go, then?” he asks politely. By that smile, I suspect he might be fishing for the more polite answer, but it’s equally likely that he’s willing to leave if I want him to. Which was funny, because he is the only person I wouldn't want to leave me alone.  
  
“No! Uh...n-no, of course not,” I start to answer without thinking, and have to mentally pull myself back so I don’t sound so eager. “But, um, I guess...we could go somewhere else if you want.”  
  
I’m trying not to look as nervous as I feel, but from the way his smile grows and his face softens, I can tell I’m failing at that.  
  
“You know I don’t mind either way. And I know you want to go somewhere else, so let’s do that.”  
  
He stands up and turns to me, reaching out his hand and waiting for me to take it before pulling me up and leading me out of the building.  
  
***  
  
I’m so used to leaving the building in Misato’s car that I’ve never really taken the time to absorb the scenery outside of it.  
  
It’s wide open and spaced out, sprinkled evenly with well-pruned trees and little lights along a smooth, concrete path. The grass is neat and has that freshly mowed smell, and the whole landscape is washed over by a calm blue light from the moon. I distinctly remember arriving for the synch test sometime in the afternoon, so I must have been sitting alone afterward for longer than I thought.  
  
Kaworu is unusually quiet as we walk steadily away from NERV headquarters. Maybe because he can tell I’m lost in the surroundings for a moment, and wants to give me time to enjoy it and take it all in. Maybe he’s enjoying the moment, too, and I'm just over-analyzing things again. I steal a quick glance at him when I think he won’t notice, and manage to catch his dreamy expression. His posture is straight, yet somehow relaxed and at ease; he’s smiling as always, and though he looks vacant, I can tell his mind is calmly pulsing with all sorts of things I could never understand.  
  
Either way, his hand is still gently gripping mine, and it’s simultaneously making me anxious and helping me relax. When I first met him, things like that made me uncomfortable, so much so that I would push him away even though deep down I didn’t really want to. I couldn’t understand why he was so nice to me, so...loving. No one had ever been nice to me unless they needed something, and no one was so patient with my crippling awkwardness that they continued to show me the same (if not increasingly more) compassion no matter how ambiguously I react. He would just quietly apologize and back off from me, but his smile would never fade. His voice was never harsh. His aura never threatening. He was all gentleness and patience and love, and it took me awhile, but I learned to accept how much I enjoyed it.  
  
“You know, it’s funny,” he says suddenly, stopping and staring up at the sky. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice we had gotten so far, and were now standing on a hill just at the edge of town.  
  
I turn my attention to him and he continues, “I used to think you didn’t like me very much. Every time I came near you, you would turn red and you never looked at me. Yet we have walked the past twenty minutes or so holding hands, and not once did you decline or shy away.”  
  
I hadn't been paying attention,  but when I read see he was right. I was so relaxed and occupied with our surroundings that I didn't notice this I still clutched his hand. That absent anxiety made a spectacular return, but somehow less intense than usual.  
  
“It's not that I didn't like you...,” I reply, clearing my throat to keep from wavering. "I really do. I just...I wasn’t used to you, I guess. You’re different from most people.”  
  
“What do you mean?” His tone isn't in any way slighted or defensive, but pleasantly naïve.  
  
“I dunno...,” I take a minute to choose my words carefully before I continue. “You're, um...nice, I guess.Ever since my mom died, no one’s ever been nice to me just because. If they ever were, it’s because they wanted me to do something. My dad and Misato want me to pilot the Eva, and get mad at me when I'm scared. Ritsuko wants to run tests on me all the time, and doesn't seem to care what happens. Asuka--well, she’s never nice to me...I have no idea how Rei feels, but she doesn’t show any love, or something. No one really does."  
  
I speak distantly, and almost more to myself than him. I had never really parsed it and tried to sort out anyone's feelings. I knew Kaworu was different, but it wasn't until he asked that I bothered to think of how so.  
  
I continue on, unable to look at him now, "Then you came along, and suddenly I had more of it than I knew what to do with.” I stare a little vacantly past him as I feel a pang in my chest -- I’ve stumbled on one of those hurtful truths that I never care to acknowledge until someone pries it out of me. Kaworu never pries with his words, yet I feel compelled to tell him everything, even if I regret it later.  
  
I try to ignore the fact that he’s staring at me, and continue as calmly as I can, “I figured you had some ulterior motive, and I didn’t want to get hurt again.”  
  
“Shinji, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you,” he says, and out of habit I tense up. Here it comes again, that unconditional affection. I've grown to expect it, and almost fear it for some reason. “I love you.”  
  
“You always say that, but I don’t understand why." Again, I speak without thinking, and notice that his grip on my hand tightens. I look up at him and notice his face is earnest and almost pleading.  
  
“Why do you have to understand why? Why does there even need to be a reason?” he says, reaching to take my other hand and staring through me. “No one completely understands love, no one can explain it. Not even I can fully explain it. I just know that I feel it, for all Lillin, really, but especially you. More than anything, I want you to be happy, Shinji. That is all there is to it.”  
  
I can feel my face screwing up, but it isn’t any sort of disgust or distaste. No matter how hard I try, I can’t process what he's saying. I can feel his words and know them to be true, but something in me wants me to believe they’re not. My mind is screaming that there must be something he wants, there must be something he’s aiming for.  
  
I stop my thoughts, because I am thinking myself dizzy. Before I ruin this moment by pointlessly over-analyzing his every move, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze tightly. I can feel myself bursting, and for some reason I want to cry, so I bury my face into his shoulder and clench my teeth, holding it back with all of my might.  
  
I can only stifle it for so long, though. Especially when he brings his arms up to rest on my shoulders and presses himself close. I know he’s closing his eyes, and I can feel him smiling against my neck. My vision is blurred and there’s a warmth stinging my cheeks.  
  
I’m shaking as I fight the urge to sob, and Kaworu grips me tighter, as if he knows. I’m overflowing and I don’t know what to do. I just clutch his shirt for dear life and tremble in his arms, hoping and praying that everything he says is real.  
  
I relax my grip a little after some time, and he pulls away just enough to look at me. I’m too busy frantically wiping my face to look at him back. Softly, he holds my face with one hand, and uses the other to move mine out of the way, tilting my head up and wiping the tears himself.  
  
I’m still sniffling as he does this, and my face is red with embarrassment, but I know he isn’t judging me. I feel that he probably loves me even more for my tears somehow. He brushes my hair out of my face, coos gently at me until I’m composed enough to stop shaking. He slides his thumb across my cheek, and I finally look at him again.  
  
“I don’t mean to push you away, and I'm sorry that I do. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. You make me feel calm, and happy, and all I ever do is question you. I’m so sorry. I just--”  
  
He doesn’t let me finish, and takes the breath out of me instead. My eyes are wide and my heart is trying to jump out of my chest when he leans in to still my lips with his own.  
  
I’m completely frozen; every muscle in my body is stone and my mind screams with confusion and apprehension, determined to keep me from opening myself up to him any further.  
  
But his lips are soft, and his hands are warm against my cheeks. His hair falls gently over my face and I can feel him humming lowly in his throat.  
  
I give in. I relax. I feel warm all over and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I close my eyes and hold onto him. He tilts his head and his fingers slide along my jaw to wrap around the nape of my neck and pull me closer. My breath escapes me in nervous bursts, but his is soothing and even against my skin.  
  
We stay like this for I don’t know how long. Time doesn’t seem to run properly when he does things like this: when he crosses a new line that I never knew was there. I always find out that I like it, and actually let him do as he pleases, hoping that there will be more of it. This is no exception.  
  
Suddenly my lips are cold, and I feel the last little bit of breath being pulled away from me as his head retreats from mine. I exhale and open my eyes, but everything is blurry and I can’t move for a moment. All I can do is rest my hand on the one he holds at my cheek, leaning against it and just enjoying the feeling of it.  
  
“Shinji,” he says quietly, and I stop nuzzling his hand, reflexively trying to cover up my embarrassment even though it’s definitely too late for that. “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”  
  
“Um, are you sure?" is all I can manage to say while I regain myself and catch my breath. "I-Mean...I’ve never really been over before, a-and I'm sure you weren't expecting to-...”  
  
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked.” he says simply, crushing most of the haphazard arguments I could come up with. “And you said there was no peace at Ms. Misato’s, didn't you? My apartment is very quiet, and you are welcome to come.”  
  
“But, I don’t have any clothes or anything other than what I'm wearing...”  
  
“That’s fine. You can borrow something of mine.”  
  
“I dunno...I don’t want to impose--”  
  
“You wouldn’t be. I want you there with me," he said, gauging my reaction. I could tell he didn't want to pressure me, and really cared to help. "You can say no if you don't want to come, I will understand."  
  
“Nnh...,” I don’t know why I’m hesitating. He’s offering, you idiot. Obviously he doesn’t have a problem with it. What’s wrong with you? I start mentally berating myself and running back and forth between wanting to say yes and coming up with another excuse. I keep thinking I will impose, or he's just being polite and really doesn't want to deal with me and my stupid snivelling.  
  
After a moment of this, I have to shake my head to make it stop and finally give a firm nod. At this point, I'm not feeling nearly as confident as I’m trying to look.  
  
“O-okay. If you’re really okay with it, then I’d love to stay with you.”  
  
***  
  
Kaworu lived within walking distance of the headquarters, on a very quiet and almost deserted part of the city. It might have only seemed that way since it was night time, but I had always thought that every part of Tokyo-3 was as busy as the part where I lived.  
  
He made idle conversation while we walked, and I would respond whenever I felt capable. Sometimes he would chuckle and utter some graceful quip, others he would nod with a low hum and remark on some comment or observation I had made, which was flattering.  
  
He offhandedly mentioned that he might not have any food at his apartment, and I jumped on the opportunity to be useful.  
  
We stopped at a convenience store on the way, since it was the only place open at that time of night where we could get food. Nothing seemed all that appetizing, and I recognized a few of the brands as the kind of stuff Misato would bring home. Through a bit of trial and error I learned which brands were actually good -- or at least edible -- and bought as much as I could afford. Kaworu, meanwhile, just silently hang back and browsed the shelves. He pawed at the different candies and obnoxious magazines lining the shelves, behavior that I found strangely endearing.  
  
It was a little difficult carrying all of the bags up the stairs to his apartment. Though I didn’t complain about it, he leaned over and took most of them from me, looping them around his fingers with ease while I followed behind.  
  
I recognized the building once we reached his floor, and realized that he lived in the same apartment complex as Rei. I remembered the sombre layout from the few times I had to deliver homework assignments or messages to her. Without bothering to take out a key or even fumble with the door, Kaworu opens it once we arrive and I find it strange that it isn’t locked.  
  
“I’m home!” he says cheerfully to the dark room, flicking a light on in the small entranceway. A weight drops in my throat and I look around to see if anyone else is there.  
  
The entryway is barely a few feet wide, with space enough just for the two of us, causing the bags to knock around a bit awkwardly.  
  
Beyond it is a tiny kitchen on one side, and an almost equally tiny bathroom on the other, the rest of the apartment just being an open space. As far as furnishings, it consists only of a low table in the center of the main room, a lamp, and a strange box that is obscured in shadow so I can’t make out exactly what it is.  
  
“Um...you live alone, right?” I ask him while kicking my shoes off at the door.  
  
“In a way, yes.” he answers nonchalantly, strolling right in with your removing his shoes and placing the bags on the counter.  
  
“In...a way?” Though I didn't see anyone, I wonder then if there was an extra room or something where they were. For some reason, the thought of Kaworu sharing such an intimate space with someone else makes my heart drop sadly.  
  
“I am the only breathing creature here, yes,” he continues, pulling the food out of the bags and examining each item with lazy curiosity. “But I would not say I am alone. This room, and everything in it, keeps me company. It misses me when I leave and is happy when I come home. I can feel it.”  
  
I have no idea what he’s talking about, and if I weren’t used to him saying weird things like that, I’d think he was a bit off it. Instead I figure he’s being poetic. It’s charming in a way, and rather than putting me off, it interests me.  
  
“It’s okay, I’ll put this stuff up,” I say a little hurriedly, itching to make myself useful somehow. “You can just get comfortable and I’ll make you something.”  
  
I half expect him to refuse, but he doesn’t. He simply shrugs and casually shuffles into the main room, walking over to a closet along the wall and sliding it open. I’m so busy rummaging around with the bags and putting things into the empty fridge, that I don’t notice until much too late that he’s started to undress himself.  
  
By the time I glance over at him, his shirt is on the floor and he’s pushing off his pants. I nearly fall back in my surprise and yelp loudly, knocking a few things over in my haste to turn away and hide my face.  
  
“Ah! W-what are you doing!?” I say loudly, flushed and almost shaking with embarrassment  
  
“What?” Kaworu asks, pausing in his movements and letting his pants fall to the floor.“You told me to make myself comfortable.”  
  
“Well yeah, but I didn’t mean...I-I didn’t think you’d...” I can’t make a proper sentence, and my throat is suddenly very dry as I try to focus on what I was doing before. I drop everything I pick up and I’m making more of a mess than I intended, but it’s hard to concentrate when he’s getting almost naked just several feet away from me.  
  
“Here.”  
  
Moments later, he's right next to me, and it's even more difficult to calm down. Though he’s clothed again--in a more casual shirt and shorts--the image of his bare chest and legs lingers in my mind. For a moment, I can’t look directly at him. He’s holding his hands out to me, with some folded clothes he must have taken out of the closet. “I hope these will fit well enough. You can change if you’d like, and I’ll put the rest of this away.”  
  
I’m almost hyperventilating when I take the clothes from him and hurry into the bathroom. I need to create some distance between us for a minute. Instinctively I lock the door behind me, even though it’s doubtful he’d try to come in. I lean over the sink and take a moment to catch my breath and gather myself.  
  
Pull yourself together, Ikari. It’s his place, he’s allowed to change clothes if he wants. Don’t make this weird, please please don’t make this weird.  
  
I sigh and shakily start to unbutton my shirt and pants, folding them as best as I can. The whole time I am changing into the clothes he gave me, I keep repeating to myself: Calm down. Don’t be weird. Relax. It’s fine.  
  
With a final sigh, I rub my face and look into the small mirror before me. I knew he was a few inches taller than me, but I didn’t think his clothes would be so big. The shirt almost hangs off of my shoulders and makes me look even scrawnier, and I have to pull the drawstrings tight on the shorts to make them stay up. There’s a light scent drifting up from them, and I wonder offhandedly if this is what he smells like. I find myself much more calm now, and absently bring the collar up to my nose to inhale. It’s subtle but somehow distinct, like wood and tea leaves, and other things I can’t easily describe.  
  
It’s like home.  
  
After probably too much time, I realize I can’t stand in here smelling his clothes forever.  I take another moment to try and act normal, then pick up my folded clothes and open the bathroom door.  
  
Kaworu is standing there expectantly, holding two bowls in his hand as if waiting for me to finish. I look down as he presents one to me, and it’s full of steaming curry and rice.  
  
“Oh...Sorry, I was supposed to be the one making you something."  
  
“It’s alright,” he says, pressing the bowl to my chest and taking my clothes away from me when I grab it. “I’m somewhat familiar with instant food, it didn’t take long to make.”  
  
As much as I would like to, I can’t argue with Kaworu that since he’s already made it. I sigh a little and follow him into the other room. Somehow, he also had time to set up a couple of futons on the floor. My embarrassment returns as I try to figure out exactly how long I was in the bathroom, and how much of that time I spent "acquainting myself" with the clothes he gave me. He made no comment before, and doesn't seem to mind it at all.  
  
Kaworu sits down on one side of the table nearby, and I sit down on the other side. I set my bowl down and nod a quiet “Thanks” before I start eating.  
  
He sets my clothes off to the side and waits until I start to eat to do so himself. We sit in silence, and take in the outside sounds: the dull murmur of voices from a distant apartment, the low hum of cars driving by in the distance. All of these things seem a lot more apparent in the thick quiet of the room, and I focus on them intently until I can think of something to say.  
  
“Um...Kaworu?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Thanks for, uh...inviting me over,” I begin, swallowing what's in my mouth so I don’t continue talking to him through cheeks full of rice. "I like it here, it's really nice. Sorry about the food...it’s all I could think to get at this time of night. But um, next time maybe I could cook you something! I mean, y’know, real food instead of--"  
  
“Next time...” he says lowly, and I realize the implications of what I just said.  
  
“Ah! I'm sorry, I don’t want to assume...I meant i-if you ever wanted to have me over again. Not that you just automatically would or anything, I just--"  
  
“Please, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, not reprimanding me, just correcting me gently. “I’ve wanted to have you over for some time. It is my fault for not having any food, but I will be more prepared next time. I would love it if you were to cook something, I’m sure it will be wonderful.”  
  
“My cooking's not all that great...anything is better than instant meals.” I say shyly, shrugging but unable to keep from smiling. I cough and bury my face into my bowl to hide it a little more.  
  
We eat in silence for awhile...or at least, I’m eating. Kaworu is having an affair with his food at best; he takes a bite or two, then twirls his chopsticks through the rice idly while staring at me with that bold, unfaltering stare. I can’t acknowledge it, because even just feeling his eyes on me is enough to make me blush and cough on every mouthful.  
  
Eventually he sits up and stretches, leaving his food on the table. He gets to his feet and walks over to a corner of the room.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I just remembered, I found something nice in town the other day, I think you'd like it." he says smilingly, crouching in a corner as I crane my neck to try and see what he’s doing. There isn’t much light in here other than the dim lamp next to the table, so I still can't see it  
  
He fidgets with the obscured box I saw before, and I keep my eyes on him as I continue eating and wait for him to finish. Eventually, I hear a soft crackle, and he remains still for a moment as if waiting for something.  
  
The deep groan of a cello gently floats to my attention, but it sounds thick and dusty, coated with something indescribable that I can feel somehow. He stands up and walks back over to the table, lounging on the carpeted floor and examining my face questioningly.  
  
“Well? What do you think?” he asks finally as I listen to the music. It’s a lonely piece, a solo that I can imagine played by a single artist in a quiet room, with nothing but a chair on which to sit and yellowed leaflets of sheet music to read.  
  
“It’s...really nice, actually. It just sounds kinda different, somehow. Warmer, I guess. What kind of CD is this?” I ask, still trying to get a look at the source of the music.  
  
“It’s a vinyl record,” he said. “Kaji gave me a record player some time ago, and told me where I could find music for it. It was this nice antique place, with one corner packed to the ceiling with  classical records. I know you like to play cello, so when I saw this one, I figured you might appreciate it.”  
  
“It’s wonderful, I love it.” I smile at him, and hold my empty bowl in one hand, picking his up and bringing them both into the kitchen. I can tell he’s done eating, because he had stopped toying with it altogether. I set everything down in the sink, busying myself with washing my bowl and placing his in the fridge.  
  
Once finished, silence returns in some way. The record still crackles beautiful music into the air, and the cars still coast by outside. I can sense no movement from Kaworu, and yet I know he's watching me. I hesitate a moment, then turn off the light in the kitchen and turn to face him.  
  
The room is a bit more brightly lit than before. A blueish glow pours in from the large window along the wall, whose curtains are now open, and nearly drowns out the sad glow of the lamp. Kaworu extinguishes that soon after, and it's yellowish tint leaves altogether.  
  
He lays still, and I can’t completely make out his features as he is cloaked mostly in shadow, but I know exactly what look he has on his face.  
  
I stand there uncertainly for a minute, tugging at the shirt I’m wearing and waiting for him to do something. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, exactly, or why I don't want to move, but I’m stuck there in fear of somehow doing the wrong thing.  
  
Kaworu does eventually move, but of course it’s not in the way I expect. In what seems like one easy, fluid motion, he pushes himself off of the floor and walks up to me. He’s dreadfully slow, and the closer he gets, the tighter I grip the hem of the shirt. Soon he’s so close I can feel the heat coming off of him, and I have to look down to keep from being overwhelmed by him. His face is still obscured, as the light is behind him, but he’s looking straight at me, and his gaze is too heavy for me to bear.  
  
“You look uncomfortable," he says gently, and I stifle a noise that almost escapes in reaction to his dulcet tone. "Am I doing something wrong?”  
  
His voice his low and genuine, and I can hear the smile around his words. He doesn’t seem to have a very strong sense of modesty in the things he does; his words are frank and to the point, but still sweet and acquiescing.  
  
“N-no...you're not doing anything wrong,” I want to reassure him, but at the same time I don’t want to say exactly what I’m thinking. “I’m fine, really.”  
  
Just painfully awkward, that’s all.  
  
“Just a little tired, that’s all.” Having him this close makes me think of when he kissed me earlier, and I’m embarrassed by how easily I gave in. I want him to do it again, but I can’t say that out loud.  
  
He turns his head and the light lingers in the corner of his eyes. He’s searching me for something and I don’t know what.  
  
“Then come, you can lay down. I’ll get a blanket for you.”  
  
He moves away from me and I can finally breathe again, but I’m still frozen for a moment. While his back is to me and he’s pulling a blanket out of the closet, I quickly dart across the room and crawl onto the futon closest to the wall. I curl up in the corner and wait until he returns with a blanket.  
  
“Th-thanks.” I mumble quickly and pull it from him, laying down and shielding myself with it. I wrap into a tight ball and keep my back steadfastly turned to him.  
  
I’m completely still, and there’s no sound in the room other than the music warbling out from the record player. After a few seconds I hear Kaworu mutter a gentle good night and pad quietly across the room, presumably to sit closer to the record player and continue to enjoy the music.  
  
There’s a part of me that wants him to lay down next to me, but consciously I’m glad he didn’t. I don’t know how I would have handled it, and I’m tired of fighting these embarrassing thoughts and urges for one day. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to try and fall asleep, but of course that doesn’t work. I try not to think about the fact that Kaworu is probably still watching me, and having him a distance away makes it easier to compose myself and even relax after what feels like an eternity.  
  
The songs ebb and flow into each other, and he keeps the volume just low enough that I can still hear it without it being overpowering. It soothes me, and I shift just a bit to make myself more comfortable. I get lost in the calming sounds, and my mind actually stops reeling. My eyes feel heavy, and I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it doesn’t matter much. I actually relax, and I’m starting to drift. I’m not worried, I’m not scared, I’m not embarrassed. Everything is okay, and I finally have some peace.  
  
***  
  
My eyes slide open and it’s still nighttime, so I couldn't have been asleep for that long.  
  
The room is quiet and the music has stopped, so that means Kaworu turned it off and went to sleep possibly some time ago. I shift a little and stretch tightly underneath the covers, sighing as I stare at the ceiling for a bit. I look toward the window and watch dust mites float in the light, then shift towards the room to resettle myself. I stop mid motion as I see a peaceful face resting just inches from my own.  
  
Kaworu is lying there, languidly nestled beneath the covers. His futon is a lot closer than I remember it being, and is almost touching mine. His eyes are closed and chest heaving with slow, sleeping breaths. I’m almost afraid he can feel my heart beating even in his sleep. It’s pounding in my ears and I stare at him, expecting him to wake up at any moment.  
  
He doesn’t, though, and remains blissfully unaware that I’ve woken up. After my initial panic, I settle down enough to quietly admire his features, grateful for the chance to do so without having to worry about him staring into my soul.  
  
I glance over his face, taking note of how smooth and almost inhuman his skin looks in the soft blue light. I see things I’d never taken the time to notice before, like how his eyelashes are silvery just like his hair, and how his nose and cheeks are sharp and pronounced. I linger even longer on his lips; they’re thin, but they look soft, parted and relaxed as he sleeps. I hesitantly bring my fingers up to them for some reason, just close enough to feel his breath but not touch him.  
  
A persistent thought crosses my mind, one that’s come many times but I’ve always ignored because I could never have the courage to go through with it. I want to kiss him again...I remember how it felt when he did it to me earlier, and I want that feeling again. It was different from when Asuka kissed me awhile ago, and I’m glad because I had started to think that all kisses were probably like that. Maybe because there was love in his actions, rather than boredom and disgust. Because it was something I truly wanted, and because he loved me.  
  
Before I can stop myself, I’m leaning close. My mouth is open and I’m breathing hard. I have to hold my breath so he doesn’t feel it and wake up too soon. I have to be quiet, and I have to be careful. I’m so close now I can feel the heat from them and it makes me sigh. I’m almost there, just a little more...  
  
“...Shinji...?”  
  
I could have had a heart attack just then.  
  
His eyes are wide open, and he blinks at me slowly but doesn’t move other than that. I pull back so quickly it makes my neck hurt, and my face is burning uncomfortably hot. I don’t know what to do, and I’m hoping that he’s so tired he doesn’t realize what I was just trying to do. I sit there, frozen and pressed hard against the wall behind me, wishing I could retreat miles away right now.  
  
“S-sorry! Sorry...I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”  
  
“What were you doing?” he asks quietly, remnants of sleep still heavy in his voice.  
  
“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything. Sorry.” I keep my answers short and lie through my teeth, knowing he’ll see right through me. His silence tells me that I am right, and I hear him shift with a small chuckle.  
  
“...You know, if you want something, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask.” he says pointedly and with a sleepy smile.  
  
“W-what do you mean? I wasn't--...”  
  
He moves close and right now, I would sell my soul to erase the two minutes that had just passed. I would go back and rip that thought from my mind and force myself to fall back to sleep with no problems. I couldn’t help myself, and now he’s so close to me and there’s nowhere I can go. He reaches out and slides his hand across my cheek, gently turning my head toward his and placing his thumb on my lips.  
  
“Don’t be afraid of me, Shinji. I’m not going to hurt you.”  
  
I know that to be true, but I still can’t help being scared. Every time I’ve let my guard down I’ve been punished for it somehow, and I’m still struggling. I know exactly what he means, and deep down I believe him, but....but what?  
  
“I will never hurt you.” He says this almost against my lips, and I can’t speak at all. There’s nothing I can say, no excuse I could give, because he would cut through it with his gentle tone.  
  
“I love you, Shinji.”  
  
And with that, he deals me the fatal blow. His lips are on mine again, and his palm is pressed flat against my cheek. I tense up out of habit and tell myself that this can’t be happening, this can’t be real. It’s too good to be real. I’m not reciprocating because I’m afraid, but he’s so patient with me. He gradually presses closer, telling me with his fingers that it’s okay, and that I can relax.  
  
His other arm slides beneath me and wraps around so that he can gently hold me. He’s so warm, and my heart is throbbing in my ears and making me feel dizzy. I could keep resisting, but...what’s the point now? I want this, more than anything, and he’s giving it to me willingly. There’s no reason to be afraid anymore, and...as I realize that, I feel a little more free.  
  
There’s nothing to be afraid of.  
  
I feel him part his lips and slide his comforting mouth against my uncertain one. His breath pours over it, and suddenly I feel a warm, wet sensation against my lips. He’s trying to ease me into something new, and I push past myself to go with my instincts.  
  
Though I’ve never done this before, I’ve seen it in movies and I can only guess at what he’s trying to do. In the back of my mind, as I part my lips, I can’t help but wonder where and how he learned all of this. Has he kissed anyone else like this before? Is he like me, and learned everything from movies? What is he thinking right now? How does he feel?  
  
I open my eyes a little and try to answer these questions with what I see and feel of him, as I wouldn’t dare ask him out loud.  
  
He’s graceful and composed, and he seems to know exactly what to do. Rather than being critical of or put off by my lack of experience, he’s trying to guide me. His fingers move again, dancing along my cheek and jaw. They travel down the side of my neck, down, down further to my arms, my ribs, my hips. He grips me there a little, and I can’t help but shiver. I try to focus on the kiss and keep my lips parted, pushing my tongue hesitantly against his. Of course keeping focus becomes more and more difficult as he carries on and I am swayed by him. His whole body moves toward me, and he slowly pushes my hips down, so that I’m lying flat on the cushion.  
  
I open my eyes again just as he pulls away slightly, just enough to see him looming over me. His skin and hair are glowing a little in the light, and his body heaves with his breath. At some point, unknowingly, my hand moved on it’s own to press against his chest, and I swear I can feel the dull throb of his heartbeat even through his shirt. Even now he’s surprisingly calm, his chest isn’t pounding like mine. I wonder if he’s just as nervous as I am, but better at hiding it.  
  
“...What happens next?” I say after a moment. He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes and I keep my gaze on him, taking in his every movement.  
  
“I have never done this with anyone before now,” he says to me, his voice low and still smooth. "What would you like to do?" He sounds the same as he usually does, only I can sense a little uncertainty. That maybe he really doesn’t know what to do, for once, and somehow that’s a little comforting.  
  
“I’m not sure...I’ve never done anything like this either,” I say honestly. “I’ve never even had a real kiss...all I know is what I’ve seen other people do. Actually doing it is really...different.”  
  
“Then instinct will guide my hands, and you will tell me if I am doing well.” he croons with a half smile, immediately moving to my neck. I tense a little, and the feeling of him breathing against my skin makes me seize up. I feel sensitive all over and every hair stands up. Goosebumps cover me in waves and I'm trembling, but with anticipation rather than fear.  
  
It’s as if he’s let go of something: all pomp and circumstance, all casual and composed nuances. He’s breathing heavily and pushing up my shirt, almost admiring my skin with his fingers and massaging me gently. I feel small beneath him, and my face and neck are on fire. I’m nervous and confused, but it feels wonderful. He’s drowning me with attention, and I can’t help but be flattered at the fact that he’s let go of himself for me.  
  
Swallowing as much of my uncertainty as I can, I start to pull his shirt up as well. My hands are shaking, and I feel like they’re stumbling over him, but I manage to wrap my arms around his back and pull him down closer to me.  
  
Kaworu grins again, nuzzling against my cheek and kissing my ear. I let out a weird noise and another harsh shiver runs through me. I can feel it a warmth and dull throbbing between my legs. I’ve only ever felt that when I was alone, and only ever dealt with it then, too. I was used  to it, but somehow, being around another person, around Kaworu, fills me with anxiety. I start to doubt everything and I can see another line approaching and I don’t know if I can handle this one. I don’t know how far he wants to take this.  
  
Though we’re pressed tightly against each other, so much so that we can feel the tensing of his every muscle, I silently hope that he won’t notice. I dig my nails into his back a little and bring my knees up as discreetly as possible, squeezing my thighs together to hide it.  
  
Of course, unsurprisingly, in his infinite powers of perception and boldness, he pauses in his movements and focuses all of his attention on mine. He stops completely, as if to take everything in, and I try to lie still but the sensation is growing more and more unbearable even though he isn’t doing anything. The damage is already done.  
  
“This means that you’re enjoying yourself, doesn't it?” he almost purrs into my ear, and the vibrations alone are enough to make me want to explode. As if to punctuate his question, I feel his fingers resting between my thighs; not prying or invading, just landing gently there, as if to feel something deeper than what has become completely obvious.  
  
“S-sorry...I...I c-can’t help it,” I sputter out, expecting him to move away or laugh at me, or something else equally unbearable. I don’t know why, but even now my mind is trying to make me doubt him, it’s trying to tell me that I’m doing and feeling something wrong even though I can’t control it.  
  
“Why are you sorry? I’m glad I can make you feel like this,” he says. I don’t know if he fully understands everything he’s doing to me. All he knows is that I like it, and that’s reason enough for him to keep going. And for a moment, I feel like I can define that as love. “Everything I do is to make you feel better, Shinji. This is just proof that I’m doing it right.”  
  
“You...you always do the right thing...,” I say, swallowing again and choking down another noise that threatens to escape me as he presses his hand against me, clutching the sensitive flesh through the thin fabric of my shorts and cooing every word into my ear. “It’s amazing. No matter what, you know exactly what to do...I-I...want to do the same for you, even if I don’t know how.”  
  
“This is more than I could ask for,” he says to me, every word coated in affection that almost makes me want to cry again. “Just being close to you, making you happy...it’s all I could ever want.”  
  
I don’t know what to say anymore. Nothing I can think of seems to come close to how I feel. All I can think of is to open myself to him; I relax my thighs and let them fall apart just a little, trying to control the subtle yet erratic jolt of my hips at the feeling of him touching me.  
  
I bite my lip and tilt my head back, gripping his wrist with one hand and holding it tightly, trying to slow his movements to a pace that I can handle, even though he isn’t going very fast. I don’t pull him away, but I try to guide him. I try to ease myself into it and grow used to this wonderful and frightening sensation.  
  
He seems to get the hint and shifts his grip so that he can tug me slowly and patiently. My head feels heavy and clouded, my lip is aching from how hard I’m sinking my teeth into it. Eventually, I have let it go before I bleed, and immediately a strangled noise escapes me.  
  
But I don’t have the presence of mind anymore to be embarrassed. Finally and truly, I let go. I let Kaworu take over me, I trust myself to him because he’s never let me down or hurt me.  
  
I can feel my back lifting up off of the cushion, my hips are pulling away from him but I’m tightening my legs around his hand. Everything within his reach starts moving on its own and I’m no longer in control of my body. I’m breathing so heavily that my mouth becomes dry and my throat starts to sting a little. I’m clutching at his shoulders more tightly than I mean to but he doesn’t complain, he never once complains.  
  
Instead, he leans over me, and with his free hand he takes my chin and tilts my head down, holding it there until I can open my eyes and look at him while he looks at me. He’s still touching me slowly, but his grip tightens a little, and he’s carefully gauging my reaction. I’m making too much noise and I know it but I can’t stop. Even he’s making noise, mostly sighs and low croons, but he likes it just as much as I do.  
  
In desperation, I bring my hands to his face and pull him down for another kiss. It’s a little sloppy and my mouth is getting wet, but I’m holding his lips to mine. He doesn’t resist at all and draws my hips up a little with his touch. At some point, his fingers slip past the cloth and the moment I feel his touch against my bare skin, I can’t take it anymore.  
  
I groan again and hold my breath, and I realize for a moment it sounds like I’m in pain, but immediately I let him know with my touch that I don’t want him to stop. My legs are shaking, and my face is uncomfortably hot. There’s an unbearable pressure building and building and just when I feel like I could die, it suddenly releases.  
  
I gasp and clutch him so hard my fingers start to hurt, and I’m frozen as my body stiffens and waves upon waves of heaviness flow through me. It feels like it lasts an eternity even though it’s probably a few seconds at best, but those few seconds are so full and so satisfying that I’m completely lost.  
  
And then, completely drained, I exhale and fall against the futon. My heart is pounding uncomfortably and my hands fall from his shoulders and land beside me with a quiet thud.  
  
He gives me time to catch my breath, and as he leans back and pulls his hand away, he smiles at the little bit of glistening thickness caught between his fingers. I can’t see what he does with it, but the next thing I’m aware of is him pressing his nose into my cheek and kissing it gently until I’m composed enough to turn my head and look at him.  
  
I don’t know what to say, and he probably does, but wants to enjoy this moment just like I do. Surprisingly, I feel completely content, I feel completely at home. I realize I’m smiling, and I have been for a little while, and noticing this just makes me smile wider.  
  
He strokes my face and pulls my shorts back up, and for a moment I feel compelled to clean myself off, but I don’t want to move away from him yet.  
  
“Kaworu...I....” I start saying something, but I have no idea how to continue, and he shakes his head with that understanding smile and just looks at me.  
  
“It’s okay, I know.” he says, and somehow I feel like he truly does know, though I can’t explain how. “I’m just happy. Completely happy. There’s absolutely nothing more I would dare to ask for right now than this. Thank you, Shinji.” 


End file.
